The editor-n-cheif of this magazine, was threatened to be "fucked up" by Rick, a white man living at 212 S. Kraemer Blvd., Unit 2714, Placentia, CA, 92870. The landlord is Ruben, who is a homosexual male who moved to Placentia from Long Beach, California.

Around 7:45p.m., Friday, Dec. 3, I, Charles Purnell, called the Placentia Police Department's dispatch. Brittany took my call. I was shivering and afraid for my life for two reasons: Rick, who lives in the condo with me and Ruben, had threated to "fuck me up" and I had involved the Placentia Police in a similar situation about seven months ago.

Brittany had a soothing voice. I explained to her what happened: I went into the kitchen at 7:00 p.m., Dec.3. I opened the microwave door. A plastic top to a container fell on the floor. I picked it up and handed it to Rick. He snatched it. "Thanks alot! I just washed that!" he said with a snarl. The he turned and faced me. He balled his fists. Then he said, "I outta fuck you up!"

I cringed in fear. I stared at him through my wire-rim glasses. He went on a rant - "You lied to the landlord about me! And you threatened to call the authorities! Yeah! Yeah! Now what?!"

He took a couple steps backward and then stood in a slight fighting stance, feet spread apart, fist balled, arms slightly swinging because he was going to hit me. My back was against the wall in the kitchen.

Rick taunted me by saying "What! What!", yerking his arms and blocking my exit.

I was (still am) afraid for my life. I couldn't help but shiver. I sensed that Rick sensed my fear. He said, "Get the fuck out of here! Get your shit and go. Right now! Get out of here!"

I grabbed my food out of the microwave, ran to my room, put my food down and then ran out the condo.

Then I explained to Brittany that I was afraid to call the police because I was in a similar situation about seven months ago at 338 Koch Ave., Placentia.

Me and Brittany agreed I should talk with an officer. I was in the police's courtyard. Brittany said an officer would be there soon. I waited a half hour. Three police cars passed me by. No officer showed up to talk to me.

I didn't go inside of the police station or call back to dispatch because I didn't want to piss off an officer. Besides, in my situation seven months ago, an officer said the only crime will be when someone hits another person.

Here's background on me and Rick: He moved in two months ago. Ruben introduced us. Rick wore military-style pants and a tank top. I thought he looked like a brawler. I welcomed him.

Rick began stalking me right away. Whenever I'd come out of my room, he would come out of his. I do mean "every time." I ignored his stalking. He became upset. He broke into my room and left my door wide open. Then he'd lock himself in our bathroom, early as 3 a.m. then not come out until 5:45 a.m., the time I depart for work.

I asked Ruben for help. Ruben then said he spoke with Rick, everything should be ok. Things weren't ok. Rick almost lost it and could have killed me in the kitchen Dec. 3.

On Dec. 3, I called Ruben several times. He turned his phone off so he didn't take my call. He texted me saying he was very busy. I reached Ruben at 10 p.m., he was walking his dog. He said let him talk to Rick. I called Ruben back and he says, everything is fine and don't worry. He said he told Rick to ignore me and Rick agreed.

I think I've been set up. Ruben's phone number is (714) 341 - 3064. My phone number is (657) 248 -1218. I'll be looking to move out of here right away. But I'd still appreciate the police showing up. Rick can flip on me as soon as he sees me again.

I work at Stauffer's as a line production operator and I run a local music magazine and website. Rick does not work. His father pays his rent. But I think Ruben and Rick had this planned for me.